


death takes a holiday

by twigcollins



Series: signal to noise [3]
Category: World Ends with You
Genre: Multi, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-31
Updated: 2010-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-11 09:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twigcollins/pseuds/twigcollins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>See title.  Spoilers through end of game and special reports.</p>
            </blockquote>





	death takes a holiday

"I want you to come somewhere with me."

Neku gets the reaction he expects, which is rapidly becoming the most interesting expression Joshua has. A split-second of what could almost be concern, peeking out behind his usual calm indifference. As if Neku was somehow in any way a possible threat even if he were _trying_ and he definitely never saw that look during the Game and it makes zero sense. Joshua will explain it when he wants to which will be never so there's no use asking, but it's interesting to notice, and keep a tally in the back of his mind.

"You know, Neku, I hear there's this phone booth near Molco, and maybe if you asked me from there-" He simpers on purpose, all mock sweetness and it's still enough to make Neku look away.

"Please shut up. It's not there, it's not... not in Shibuya."

Joshua shifts from teasing to patiently pedantic without taking a breath. He's good at that.

"Shibuya's Composer's not allowed to leave the city, Neku."

"Well... that's not exactly what Mr. Hanekoma said."

It wasn't that he ever asked about the Composer's past, and Joshua never offered directly, but Neku had learned a few things over the weeks, obliquely, enough to make a few rough guesses. Joshua had been sick a lot, whenever it was he'd actually been the person he was when Neku was around. He hadn't traveled much then, before he'd become the Composer, and presumably not at all since.

It didn't take long, for the idea to show up, and Neku rattled it around in his head until it seemed like half a plan, and finally asked Hanekoma one day, when they were alone in the café.

The man let out a bark of laughter so sharp his cup sloshed all over the counter, staring at Neku with what was either amazement at his nerve or his stupidity or possibly both.

"Well, Phones, if anyone can convince him, you can."

He hadn't meant to blush, an innocent enough statement but something in Hanekoma's tone was still enough to make him stammer and drop the subject as fast as he could. But Neku figured if it were impossible, Hanekoma would have said so, flat out.

Shibuya has made him brave. Maybe manic is a better term, but with the feel of it surging beneath his skin, it's enough to deal with just the moment he's living in, let alone try to dwell on the past. Joshua will certainly do something new to piss him off any minute now, so he doesn't have to worry about forgetting.

"Kariya could keep an eye on things for one day, if you haven't already killed or eaten him. Or hired new people and eaten them. It's not like you haven't jumped ship before."

"No." Joshua says, "now I'd love to continue arguing, but I have work to do," and he vanishes just like that, leaving him alone in the fishpad.

Which is the reason Neku's started asking now, about a month in advance.

\------------------------------------

Neku ends up in the fishpad once a week on average, whenever the city gets to be too much and too loud, though he's getting better about turning the volume back down when he's finished with a project, getting it to ease off for a while. Joshua is present or absent by whatever schedule the Composer keeps, but Neku invites himself in anyway, still better than going back to an empty house. Except for that one awkward week where his father comes back home, in between trips, and they eat takeout in silence and Neku wonders if it's not blatantly obvious that everything has changed.

"So, how are things at school?"

Neku fumbles with his chopsticks, surprised to be nervous. "Fine. Everything's great. How was your trip?"

"Fine."

... and there you have it, dinner at the Sakuraba household.

The clock ticks, the only suggestion that time is actually passing. He wonders in a moment of dark humor what would happen if he blurted it all out – how between the math fetishist and the food fetishist he wanted to shower for a solid week and hey, dad, yeah, did you hit any turbulence? I hate that. I seem different? Nothing huge. I got a little bit murdered while you were gone, but it kind of cleared up on its own.

Neku doesn't say anything. He's managing to keep his grades up even with the art thing taking up greater and greater precedence in his life, and there's really nothing else between them as a point of interest. His father maybe only even cares about the grades because it's a set of numbers, an easy metric to judge by and god, it is actually easier being around Joshua in all his grand, obnoxious and potentially lethal mystery than this man, this stranger, who seems to want absolutely nothing from him.

He spends the last half of the meal scribbling in his sketchbook – nothing salvageable, everything getting crossed out a dozen times – while his father eats with one hand, with his phone in the other and they both walk away from the table with minimal fanfare. Neku sneaks out to the fishpad that night, half-sure his father wouldn't notice if he used the front door, and it doesn't matter that Joshua isn't there, the room still welcoming and more familiar by the day.

It's scary how much it's starting to feel like home.

\--------------------------------

"So what, does Shibuya explode, if you're not there for one day?"

Joshua is on the other end of the couch, playing some game on his cell phone as Neku is sketching – although for all he knows the Composer is remaking entire worlds as he punches buttons, staring intently at the little screen. For his part, he's doodling little cat ears on a fast sketch of Joshua, and a long, leopard-spotted tail. Hanekoma might be CAT but Joshua is far closer to the real thing, especially when he looks up at Neku with his eyes narrowed, annoyed.

Neku ignores him. "Do _you_ explode, if you're not there for one day?"

Minamimoto is still a Wall Reaper, and doesn't seem to be causing any real problems at the moment. Neku has seen him, chatting with Higashizawa near the Crossing and what the _hell_, Reapers are freaking _durable_. They'd seen him too, but had looked away quickly, and Neku pretended he didn't notice, wouldn't have had a damn thing to say even if he'd wanted to talk.

He still mostly hates the game, Joshua needling him now and then about the details, if he wants to know the day's tallies – but Neku figures there has to be sense behind the scenes, with CAT and Shibuya and the Composer all connected, all working within it.

The old Conductor hadn't understood why Shibuya needed to be so wide-open, so chaotic in order to work, and he'd nearly destroyed the whole place to save it. Neku is grudgingly willing to admit that even if he doesn't like it, the Game might play out the way it does for reasons he doesn't yet understand.

Not that he's really a part of any of it anymore. Neku's got enough on his mind with his work and school and holding up fabric swatches for Shiki and Eri to argue over, the two of them always in the middle of a project or a contest – but that doesn't mean he's forgotten that he and the Composer are sort-of, kind-of friends-ish, or that he's ever going to let Joshua off so easily.

"Hanekoma says you'd take a day off except that you live in your work because it's better to be boring and condescending than admit that you like to have non-murdering fun once in a while."

Joshua looks up from his game, raising an eyebrow and Neku wonders exactly when this all went from being terrifying to slightly amusing, just why he'd rather be scared than be bored. It's like poking at a thunderhead with a metal rod, ridiculously dangerous but kind of exciting at the same time.

"So he said?"

"Practically word-for-word."

Joshua sighs, looking suddenly earnest and reasonable, and some small part of Neku crows in satisfaction. Man, it's so much more /fun/ to be the total jerkwad.

"It's dangerous, Neku."

Neku manages to keep the concerned look from slipping into a grin, nodding in sympathy. "Well, I guess you would know, right? I mean, gosh, I sure wouldn't want you to do anything _dangerous_."

Joshua scowls. "You're trying to play me."

Neku smirks, his voice a teasing lilt. "... and it's wor-king."

\-----------------------------------

"Yes."

Of course, when it finally happens Neku's in the middle of some hideous demon homework, his mind slowly being mangled to death by complex equations that may or may not equal a damn thing, and he looks up at Joshua, blinking, trying to remember which of any of the five conversations-also-arguments they've had lately he might be referring to.

"Are you sure they don't turn Taboo noise into theorems?"

"I'll go with you." Joshua says, "but you'd better impress me, Neku."

"What, you mean you're _not_ a cheap date?" Neku snaps back, and then drops his eyes into his book because Joshua is chuckling and the tips of his ears are actually turning red beneath his headphones because he's an idiot.

Joshua meets him at the train station, Neku there early and half-convinced the Composer has changed his mind when he finally walks through the door. The sun is super-bright but even with that, Neku can't believe he's the only one who can see Joshua glowing, just a little, and it's kind of breathtaking and okay, that's definitely the kind of thing he needs to keep to himself.

"If Kariya razes half of Tokyo to the ground, I'm making you honorary Composer for the day."

A slight edge in his voice that makes Neku look up. Joshua looks... nervous, or at least as nervous as he's ever been, which means Neku can only guess that he might actually be a little bit worried about this.

"Are you sure..."

"A bit late for that, isn't it?" And Joshua walks on the train, maybe hesitating just slightly at the door, though Neku doesn't say anything, shifts his bag on his shoulder. He's bought both the tickets, brought along everything in advance, and Joshua hasn't even asked where they're going so Neku can't say it's a surprise, but it still feels like a good idea.

\---------------------------------

It's not all that far, really, a long ride out and a train swap close to the end. Neku flips through a newspaper someone left behind and a manga he brought along, not really seeing either, watching Joshua instead out of the corner of his eye. He's playing with his phone, seemingly engrossed, but Neku can see him flinch every now and again, just a little. If he was ever really glowing, he's not now, moving further and further away from where he belongs, and Neku can't hear what he's grown used to as just another level of city sound, the murmur and babble and song of Shibuya itself.

"I've never passed through another territory before. It's... different." He says, not looking up, obviously aware Neku's been watching, but he's smiling a little.

"Other composers? Other Games?"

The smirk again. "Six billion Souls? I'd hope so. I'm flattered though, Neku, that you think I could do it all by myself."

Halfway out, when they're spotted for the first time for certain, another city's Reaper stepping onto the train, Neku watching him tuck down his wings to fit through the door. He stops short when he sees them, the closest expression to 'O.o' that he has ever seen in real life... or whatever life it is they're looking at.

"Something wrong?" Joshua says mildly, and no matter what he thinks about the trip, he's definitely enjoying this. The Reaper warily shakes his head, scrambling quickly back off the train as the doors close and then they're off again.

Neku watches trees and houses pass by, half-glad when there's no hints of their destination peeking through, feeling profoundly nostalgic even with Joshua here – this is a good idea. When they get off the train and start walking, Joshua is looking around with far more interest than any of it merits, and Neku _knows_ this is a good idea, even if Joshua locks up completely near the top of the slight hill, when Neku reaches out, gently puts his hands over his eyes.

"Neku?" A warning. Maybe not quite as relaxed as he thought.

"You can go back to not trusting me in thirty seconds. Just walk."

He expects an argument, but Joshua lets Neku push him up the hill, and then they're over the top and he pulls his hands away. The ocean stretches out to the horizon and even the Composer has to admit it's pretty damn impressive, the first time.

"Oh."

The expression on Joshua's face is one of the better things Neku has seen in a while. The expression when Neku shoves him into the edge of the surf, soaking his shoes, is second best.

\----------------------------------------

"It's a shoes-off activity anyway."

Neku says by way of apology, before disappearing into the changing room. He'd offered a pair of Beat's old board shorts, but Joshua at least has enough power for handling wardrobe changes, and he's not wearing anything that color, ever. He flips his Frequency to a pair of black shorts, no shirt, no shoes, matching what most of the rest of the beach is wearing.

Joshua looks down at his hands, what would have been an unnoticeable use of his power in Shibuya not quite so easy to ignore now. He's still not anything like human, but closer to it now than he's been in a long time. It's weird, and more than a little disconcerting, being this far away from his territory, where he knows the rhythms and measures of every inch of pavement. Nothing to talk to him here, this place not even large enough for a Game of its own, no Composer, Anything that would happen, Noise and Players both, would simply be drawn to the next nearest UG.

The Game seems so important, so vital to the world, but the steady sound of the waves is a reminder that what they do is entirely a human concern, the natural world on its own rhythms, running steadily regardless of their enterprise.

He goes down to the edge of the beach because it really is beautiful, so much to take in. Sharp little diamonds of light glint along the surface, his feet sinking in the wet sand, Joshua watching little lines of bubbles pop on his skin as the surf washes up to his ankles. A little further down the beach, two children are constructing some kind of impenetrable fortress that is already beginning to slip on one side, alternately shouting and laughing at its inevitable fall and that's the way it is, isn't it? In the end, that's all -

A blur of color brushes past him, nearly topples him and by the time he gets his balance Neku is already sprinting into the sea. He yelps when the first wave hits him, the water not at all warm but in another moment he's diving in, disappearing for a moment only to pop back up, bobbing up and down like an otter in the rolling waves as he turns back toward the shore, obviously waiting.

Joshua hesitates, hates himself for it, even more so as Neku's confusion turns into surprise and he's coming back, easily coasting along the waves. Joshua almost raises his Frequency then and there to disappear but he's in the middle of nowhere with two or three Composers between him and his own territory and this was stupid, this was a stupid, stupid thing to do – and Neku is watching him closely, as wary as you could expect from someone he's already killed, twice.

"I didn't think you couldn't... I mean, it makes sense, but I didn't think."

"The great tragedy of my life." Joshua mutters, with more than enough sarcasm to drive anyone off – and he should know better than to be so surprised when Neku grabs for his hand. Carefully, eyes on his face, ready to let go and run for it if the Composer decides to start shooting again, but he tugs a little bit, when he doesn't isn't instantly incinerated.

"Come on. It's just floating and flailing, mostly, when you're in the ocean. I'm not gonna let you drown."

"You'd have to resuscitate me. Mouth-to-mouth."

"Never happen." He tugs again. "Come on."

Joshua stops resisting, Neku pulling him further into the water, the waves helping drag him along into the empty blue and there's the moment of panic when the tide goes out and his feet leave the sand, floating free and helpless and nothing at all like it feels anywhere in the UG, whatever he's doing, but Neku doesn't let go. It's true that with a little bit of flailing, Joshua at least manages to float, only swallowing half the ocean every fourth wave or so.

Neku looks at him, now and then, curious, and Joshua knows it's because he can't stop staring, wondering. It seems so ridiculous, now, that he shouldn't say it out loud, but there's still the question of /why/, and he needs to know.

"I thought you would want revenge."

Neku gives him a look, and then a grin both amazed and confused and laughing at him, and Joshua feels more alive than maybe he has ever been, even in his first moments as Composer, with half the secrets of the universe spread out before him.

"What makes you think this isn't it?"

\------------------------------

Walking in the shallows, the water reflects weird, wobbly rectangles of glowing light across the bottom, and everything is warm, and Joshua thinks he might understand it a little better now, why the Players fight so hard to win the Game.

"It's nice here."

Neku nods, shielding his eyes. "I used to go up further north, when I was little. The whole summer. My aunt had a place."

He doesn't talk much about his family, though Joshua had never been much for filial piety either, nothing terrible about his family but nothing particularly interesting and early on, they'd all realized they didn't have much to talk about – and all of a sudden Neku stops, staring at him.

"Oh, shit."

He jumps out of the surf, bounds back onto the beach, and Joshua follows after, wondering what has him so worried. No one else seems to be panicking, which means it isn't anything dangerous. Rather a shame, it would be interesting to see how a real shark matched up with the Noise kind.

Neku is rummaging through the small bag he brought along, and throws a bottle in Joshua's direction. Suntan lotion.

"I kinda didn't think you'd need it, but you're a little pink already. I totally forgot... man, it's kind of amazing you didn't just burst into flames."

Joshua could have corrected for it, just something he'd overlooked because he didn't know. Of all the things he's had to worry about, sunburn has never exactly been a problem, not for a long time. He could correct for it now, but then Neku wouldn't be touching him, hands light against his shoulders, pushing the wet hair out of the way to get the back of his neck, and Joshua just stands there stupidly for a moment, rubbing a little on his chest because he at least has to pretend he's paying attention to something other than the feel of Neku's hands on his skin.

His mother had held him once, though the memory is little more than a shadow now. Rocking him gently, telling him stories of enchantments and emperors – a princess in the moon, looking down on the whole world. Longing to be mortal. He'd never understood that part, much preferred the feathered robe.

"What about you?" He says, and Neku stares for a moment, before handing him the bottle, turning away.

Joshua starts at the back of his neck, no hair to brush out of the way, and he's profoundly aware of the feel of his fingers sliding across the slightly wet skin, hears Neku's breath hitch just maybe, a little, as he brushes fingertips lightly down his spine. Joshua feels the wry smile at the corner of his mouth, ready to break the strange, beautiful tension, but nothing comes. This is a moment he can keep for himself, forever, just as it is.

\----------------------------------------

Time slows to a drugged, lazy crawl, nothing much to do besides sit on the beach and stare at the waves, or walk along the shore as the tide comes in. So much simple power in the surf and the sand it seems like it must be a part of some greater purpose, must be used for something, but it just _is_.

A small sound breaks him out of his thoughts. Neku is trying not to snicker at him and failing terribly.

"Now your hair is as mental as you are."

The combination of the salt air and the wind has left him more than a little bird-nesty, but Joshua chooses to ignore it, refusing to use power on anything quite so petty, instead nudging a wave with a little bit more force, enough to soak Neku quite thoroughly, though no, of course he had nothing to do with it. He was a city Composer, how could he possibly manage something like that?

Lunch is shaved ice, too hot to bother with being hungry, and while they eat and Neku's tongue turns blue, he toes his name in the wet sand, two simple characters that kind of look like a badly-deformed duck at the right angle, and Joshua frowns.

"Tell me you don't ever write it like that."

"When I'm writing with my _feet_ I do."

It looks so small, so unimportant, not any measure of what the boy is, and there's a strange, sudden frustration that even Joshua doesn't understand. He had expected more questions, so much Neku should want to know, should demand answers to, and yet he's asked nothing, made no demands.

_Trust your partner. _ A platitude, nothing more. He's a little bit smarter than that, thanks.

"You really have horrible penmanship, Neku." Joshua says, crouching down to sketch his own name properly with the handle of his spoon, not the katakana but his real name, rather too complicated for the medium, though he still makes no mistakes.

"Looks like somebody took classes."

"For years."

It was the only thing he hadn't been good at right away, and that had intrigued him enough to learn. Joshua hasn't drawn anything in a long time, hasn't even written his own name, no need for it and his preferred style an anachronism, something for tourists and museums, no longer what moves the world. His name sits next to Neku's like a butterfly perched on a stone, and then the water stretches up to carry them both away.

\-------------------------------

The sky is just starting to lose its blue as they walk back toward the station, Neku turning unexpectedly for a moment, half-jogging to where a group of people have gathered, returning with two slices of watermelon, passing one off to him, only to stop abruptly.

"You going to wear the beach home?" Joshua finally notices his hands are covered in sand, and brushing them off doesn't do as much good as he assumed it would. "Here. Just hold it on the rind." Neku says, sticking the wedge in his mouth before Joshua can say more.

It's delicious, sweet and sticky and messy, and they wash off in a rather half-assed fashion at a nearby spigot, before throwing their shirts back on, Neku raising an eyebrow but saying nothing when Joshua simply wills his into being.

It would be easy to just banish it all, but there's something to be said for being rumpled and windblown, and maybe he doesn't want to lose this right away, the sense of peace, the quiet. It lasts when they're back on the train, Neku asleep a few moments after they switch lines, curled against the side of the car. It lasts, even when his phone rings.

"So, I'm guessing he didn't drown you in the first six inches of water he could find?"

Hanekoma sounds far too satisfied with himself for someone who keeps 'forgetting' to put caller ID on the phone. Joshua sighs.

"I hate to disappoint you, but I'm returning safe and sound – assuming the UG is still there."

"Quiet all day, boss. No one even noticed you were gone."

Joshua smirks. "You suck at subtlety. Please don't give him any more ideas."

Hanekoma laughs. "This one was all his. The next one will be too."

"I'm sure." Joshua says, and uses a jolt and shift of the train to tug Neku over, until the boy is resting on his shoulder. His hair is still damp, smells like the sea and the sun. Joshua can stop this now, before it goes a step further, and there are certainly reasons to, but all the strategy in the world doesn't mean a thing if his heart's not in it.

Megumi is probably laughing at him, wherever he is now.   
  "So, you going to tell him before he takes his first Soul? It'll scare the shit out of him, otherwise."

The thought of Neku actually hunting seems absurd, difficult to even imagine the scenario – Neku's friends were all in the RG, his greatest weakness as protected as anyone could be.

"He's fine. He's learning."

The Game was running better than it had since the early days, there was no denying that, and Joshua knows he could let it drag on nigh indefinitely this way, Higashizawa nervous enough about proving himself that he'll run a tight and orderly Game without much need for oversight.

"Josh, after everything he's gone through, I don't think he's going to run away screaming from this."

"Gee, sorry, Mr. H," Joshua chirps blandly, "it looks like we're going through a tunnel."

He snaps the phone shut. Hanekoma won't call back, the point already made, as if it's something that Joshua hasn't considered and reconsidered. Neku sighs, shifting – they're nearly holding hands again, the car rocking and clicking as it races across the tracks, all of it too real and none of it still making any sense.

_... why are you doing this? For me? To me? _

He can think of a dozen possible reasons – perhaps Shibuya even convinced him to do it, without Neku ever realizing it. Trying to defend itself against future threats, after coming so close to destruction.

Asking Neku's thoughts directly reveals nothing so simple or planned. He is instead rewarded with happiness and melancholy both, a sweet nostalgia alongside warm memories of the current day, and that fracture of pain like a crack in a wall, whatever had happened before the Game, to push his proxy so hard away from the world. It would hurt Neku to break it now, for such a small revelation, and maybe even then there wouldn't be an answer. It's not like him, to want things to be so easy, and Joshua stops asking.

He realizes, looking up, that they are alone in the car now. Oddly empty, save one.

The Composer this time, staring at Joshua from behind the façade of a seventeen year old boy wearing a Pegaso suit not at all comfortably. Not a crease in his expensive tie and yet still not as confident as Joshua feels with a sunburned nose and sand in his hair. His trespass was likely rare enough to require this visit, though it is clear the other Composer had been expecting more of a fight.

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugs as best he can with Neku on one shoulder. "Just passing through."

The Composer frowns, as if trying to puzzle out some cryptic lie behind his words. Joshua reminds himself not to be so ridiculously paranoid, should he ever have an unexpected visitor.

"Where were you?"

"The beach."

"The beach?" The Composer's frown deepens, as if the words are entirely foreign.

"Mm-hm," Joshua says. Maybe he should have brought a postcard back.

His utter lack of interest in challenging or attacking or even standing up effectively disarms the other Composer. The boy finally gets up to leave at the next stop, casting one last long, confused look back, muttering to himself. "_I've_ never been to the beach."

Joshua chuckles, feeling Neku stir.

"Nnn... Josh? You ok?"

"You're doing a fantastic job of protecting me, Neku." He says, though there's no way he's awake enough to appreciate the sarcasm. "Go back to sleep."

Neku's drained himself more than a little too, being so far from Shibuya. Aware on some level that he's connected to the city, he's been adapting to that power on his own terms, using it awkwardly but improving by the day. Fearless, really, and what Joshua had assumed was simply foolish naivete is far more rare and valuable and Hanekoma's probably right, and yet. And yet.

If he were a better person, he'd feel guilty about tying Neku to Shibuya, staking a claim on such a valuable Soul, but so far Joshua can only feel smug. Contented, with Neku at his side and Shibuya shining in the distance, closer every moment, calling them home.


End file.
